


Mission: Suburbia

by funsizedshaw, justanexercise



Series: Til Shaw Do Us Part [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, dw: root and john don't do it, fake married, mentions of extra-marital sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funsizedshaw/pseuds/funsizedshaw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root and John navigate through the trials of marriage with Shaw stuck in the middle. First step, suburbia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission: Suburbia

 

Flicking invisible lint off Reese’s shoulder, Root readjusts the package in her arms. She straightens her back and Reese follows suit.

“You ready for this?” she asks.

Reese nods resolutely. Together, they knock on the door, sealing their fate. The double doors swing open, a middle-aged man and woman greet them with the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Welcome Rooney’s!”

“Hi…” Reese says with a grimace passing for a smile. “Wyatt’s?”

“Thank you for inviting us Karen,” Root says, passing her the wine. “Hope this pairs with the food.”

“Oh Dave, look at this, chardonnay, Bonneau du Martray, Corton Charlemagne.” Karen shows Dave the label. “Very nice.”

“John picked it out,” Root says, pulling John into the house.

“I didn’t know you knew about wine,” Dave says, clapping Reese on the back. Reese painfully grimaces for a moment before donning on a blank expression. “Here let me get your jacket.”

Brushing Dave’s overly helpful hand, Reese shrugs off his coat.  “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Here let me help you with that Caroline,” Karen says. She slides her hand across Root’s shoulders to the shawl covering her neck.

“Oh no thank you Karen,” Root says, shrinking back towards Reese. She discreetly taps his forearm until he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “I get cold easily.”

“Awww, aren’t they the cute couple!” Karen says. She leads them to the main living room. “Now over there is the Jeffersons, their son just won the spelling bee championship.”

The sound of typing echoes over the comms. “Mrs Jefferson appears to have an addiction to pornography, from the looks of her internet history,” Finch says.

Root hides a smirk as she shakes both their hands and smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

John does the same, letting Root take the lead as Karen introduces them to everyone in the expansive living room. Karen seems to be prone to adding some kind of achievement to each of their introductions, and Finch comments on each person’s vices as he looks them up.

“These are the Clarks, their oldest daughter just got crowned homecoming queen and Mr Clark has also just been promoted to manager.”

_“Mr Clark also seems to have been ordering a large amount of male enhancement pills. Although, I’m not sure it has helped. It looks like Mrs Clark is having an affair with her coworker.”_

Root and John exchange a look of relief when Karen finally introduces them to the last couple in the living room.

_“Porn addiction, enhancement pills, kleptomania, sniffing spray paint..? Did you two land in a sitcom?”_

Root’s smile turns genuine. She turns, hiding her face from the married couples. “Hey Sweetie, thought you were walking Bear.”

_“More like, Bear was walking me. He’s extra voracious today.”_

Root smiles at the hint of fondness in Shaw’s voice as Karen walks back to them with a glass of wine in each hand.

“Strapless dresses are meant to show off the shoulders Caroline,” Karen says, taking a sip of wine and racking her eyes up and down Root’s body. She takes a hold of the scarf and pulls it off Root. “I knew it,” Karen says, brushing her fingertips across Root’s skin. “Sun-kissed skin. When do you find the time to tan?”

_“Tan? What tan? You’re as pale as Morticia Addams.“_

“We were just in Miami, a little mini-vacation before moving up here. John and I like to keep things adventurous, don’t want to let the marriage go stale right?”

“Spontaneous vacations? Dave and I haven’t been able to do that since Nathan and Audrey,” Karen says with a wistful sigh. “But now that they’re both in college, we’d been able to indulge in some.”

“That’s wonderful,” Root says, rubbing her goose-bumped shoulders. She glances around for an escape. “Is that truffled quail eggs?”

John takes the hint and lets her lead him to the spread of food. “Yes, those do look delicious.”

_“Truffled quail eggs? Again? Why do you two keep getting the good food?”_

“You know very well what I’d rather be eating sweetie,” Root flirts under her breath as she leans into Reese.

Reese sighs and stuffs a truffled quail egg into Root’s mouth. Root’s sentence gets muffled and she levels him a glare.

_“Mr. Reese? Ms. Groves? What’s happened?”_

“Just stuffed a quail egg into Root’s mouth,” he says as if it’s no big deal.

_“Got a taste of your own medicine Root?”_

Root walks around the table and picks up a steak bite. She smirks and pops it into her mouth. “Not really, just getting a taste of this amazing steak.” She moans, ignoring Reese’s raised eyebrow.

_“Steak?”_

“Filet mignon,” Root answers, spearing a piece on her fork and waving it in Reese’s face. He snatches it out of her hand and feeds himself. “Medium rare.”

_“Ms. Shaw could you perhaps...drool somewhere else? Somewhere away from my computer?”_

_“Get your eyes checked Harold, I’m not drooling.”_

Root playfully winks at Reese and grabs a wine glass. She leans into him, glancing at their hosts. “Time for some action?”

“Of course,” Reese says with a grin.

“Bedroom it is.”

_“What?”_

“Don’t worry Sameen, we’ll keep you updated.”

Reese cocks both his eyebrows up and Root just slyly grins. They sidestep a slightly intoxicated couple coming out of the bathroom in the hallway, the Jeffersons it seems like. Reese gives her the all-clear sign.

“Gonna need a leg up,” Root says. Reese cups his hands together and she steps onto them, to reach the air vent. Quickly prying it open, Root plants the wireless camera into it and seals it shut. They make the rounds, installing bugs around the house.

“Last one,” Reese comments, opening the bedroom door. “After you.”

Root proceeds to place her bugs and cameras around the room while Reese snoops around, opening and closing drawers. She opens their laptop and scoffs. Reese turns to her, eyebrow raised.

“They didn’t even bother to put a password in.”

“Not like that would’ve stopped you.”

“No but if they’re as careless as this, I can only imagine how they’ll be when shit hits the fan.” She plugs in her USB, planting a worm to give Finch access and infecting every device on their network.

“Root,” Reese says, voice low.

She turns off the computer and looks inside the box he’s staring at. He sorts through them, showing Root the polaroid pictures and sharpied dates. All recent, within six months. “They’ve got photographs, like they’re trophies.”

He takes pictures of the pictures, sending them to Finch.

_“I’ll run them through facial recognition.”_

“There’s 17 photos,” Root says, counting them. “I don’t recognize any of them, I don’t think they’re from the neighborhood.”

_“Mr. Reese, Ms. Groves, the Wyatt’s are heading to the bedroom. Get out now.”_

The door rattles. Reese shoves the photos back into the box and locks it. He reaches for the gun tucked into the back of his pants. “Too late Finch.”

“Wait,” Root says, putting a hand on his hand that’s grabbing the gun.

Reese gives her a hard look.

“Trust me,” she says.

He reluctantly lets the gun go and they both face the door as it swings open, the Wyatt’s stumbling in. Root takes his face in her hands and pulls him in for a tight-lipped kiss.

“Oh,” Karen says. “I’m so sorry...wait, this is our bedroom.”

Root pulls away from Reese, her face blooming with a blush. She bites her lip, giving Karen a chastised grin. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” she says, throwing Reese a smile.

Karen smiles knowingly and looks Reese up and down. “Well, I can’t blame you,” she winks at Root.

Reese swallows and shifts awkwardly. “Uh...yea sorry. We’ll just-”

He puts an arm around Root’s waist and tugs her past the couple that’s still standing in the doorway.

_“Mr Reese? Ms Groves? Is everything alright?”_

“All good Finch. How’s the facial recognition going?”

_“Wait. Did you two just…”_

Root smirks at Shaw’s suspicious tone. “Pretend that we got walked in on?”

A growl is her only response.

* * *

 

Sweeping her hair to the side, Root gestures to the back of her dress. Reese dutifully unzips it for her and turns around, concentrating on the laptop feeds.

“Any ideas on the pictures?” Root asks, tossing the dress into the laundry hamper. She walks around in her bra and panties, rifling through her drawers for proper sleepwear.

“Finch, did we get any hits on those?”

_“None so far, not in the ten mile proximity. I’ll widen the search.”_

_“Come on, we’re all thinking it.”_

“Oh?” Root unsnaps her bra. “And what’s that Sameen?”

_“Serial killers.”_

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Reese says.

“Suburban serial killers? Shaw, when did we land into a dramatic thriller?”

_“Pictures with dates on them? Who’d keep 17 of them in a locked box?”_

“Suburbanites are a different breed Sam.” Root slips on her pajamas and buttons it up. She stands behind Reese, putting a hand on her hip and one on the back of his chair. “What are they up to?”

“Just cleaning up.”

“You should get ready for bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Root raises an eyebrow. “You miss wearing a suit that much?”

Sighing, Reese leans back in the chair. “Suburban dad chic isn’t quite my style.”

“Really? I think Karen appreciates it, the polo, cargo shorts. Salt and pepper hair. All suburban mom catnip.”

Reese grins. “Jealous?”

“Not even a little bit.”

_“I don’t know about that, seems like Karen has a thing for Root’s pale shoulders.”_

“They’re nicely tanned at the moment, right John?”

Reese gives her a pained look and moves away from her. “I’ll go brush my teeth.”

“Sure John,” Root says, taking his place. “And I’ll take the couch tonight.”

“Root,” Reese says, voice distorted from the foaming toothpaste and toothbrush.

“Can’t have you out of commission cause of a bad back John. What would Harold say if I returned you in damaged condition?”

Finch’s sigh reverberates through speakers. Reese shakes his head. “I’m fine Root.”

“Or we can sleep together,” Root says with a brilliant smile.

Reese chokes on the toothpaste.

“Don’t worry, I even have my comfy pajamas on.”

_“You’re wearing the blue monstrosity?”_

“She is,” Reese replies, happy for the change in topic.

“What? You won’t let me wear it.”

_“That’s because it’s horrendous. Besides, I prefer you out of it.”_

“Still here,” Reese deadpans.

Root snickers. “Well, I’ll be off to the couch then.”

“Root.”

_“Just let her take the couch, Reese.”_

As Root walks out, Reese hears her seductive voice floating down the hallway. “I’ll call you on a private line, Sameen.”

* * *

 

The next morning Reese walks through the front doors, energised after his morning run. Root walks out of the bedroom where she has been watching the feeds.

“We’re getting a new couch.”

Reese grins. “Never slept on a couch before Root?”

“That’s not a couch, that’s a sack of potatoes,” she snaps at him.

“You slept on a sack of potatoes before? Texas sure does have some weird beds.”

Root shakes her head and ignores his jab. “Dave get up to anything this morning?”

“No, followed him for an hour. For someone who works in an office he’s in pretty good shape.” Reese leans over her, grabbing a cold water bottle.

“Go take a shower, John. You stink.” She stalks past him into the kitchen.

Reese wisely decides not to reply and walks into the bedroom. He looks forlornly at the suits hanging in his closet for a moment before grabbing a polo and cargo shorts.

_“Trouble with the wife, Mr Rooney?”_

“Shaw-”

_“Just get her coffee with lots of sugar.”_

_“Yes, Mr Reese. Please make use of that very expensive dual espresso machine and coffee maker Ms Groves made me buy.”_

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience Shaw.”

_“I pay attention. Like I’m trained to. Did you miss that day at CIA school, John?”_

Root appears in the doorway just as Reese is about to step into the bathroom. “You kids realize I can hear you right? And John, turn off your comms, we don’t want to hear you touch yourself.”

_“Gross.”_

Grinning at the absolute disgust in Shaw’s tone, Root innocently says, “What? I meant cleaning himself.”

_“Yea sure Root.”_

Root fixes herself a cup of coffee and slides one over to Reese when he comes into the kitchen, towel drying his hair.

He mumbles a thanks and raises an eyebrow. “Are we staying in today?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should get dressed.” He gestures to her silk pajamas.

_“You’re still wearing them?”_

“I’m making the most of it,” Root airily says. She flips her hair over her shoulder and drinks the rest of her coffee. “Fine, I’ll get changed, I have an appointment with a very hot yoga instructor and you have to renegotiate our homeowners insurance.”

* * *

 

Root bites her lip, keeping the low appreciative moan at the minimum as she watches that tight butt swing into a downward dog. “Hot indeed,” she mumbles.

“Root, stop staring at my ass,” Shaw hisses from the front of the yoga studio.

“Just appreciating your form Sameen.” Root’s eyes drift to Shaw’s chest.

“Harold…” Shaw complains. “Make her stop.”

“He’s busy coaching John about insurance rates, we’re on a private line sweetie. Can say whatever we want.”

“Keep it down,” Shaw hisses. “You’re lucky there’s music.”

Root pouts. She keeps quiet for the rest of the class but still glues her eyes to all of Shaw’s assets.

Shaw decides to ignore Root’s roving eyes and takes the class through various poses for the next hour. As the rest of the women roll up their yoga mats Shaw stands to the side, keeping an eye on Karen. Root is nowhere to be found.

Karen walks over to her, and Shaw pastes a smile on her face.

“Hi!” Karen enthusiastically takes Shaw’s hand and holds it more than shakes it. “Haven’t seen you around here before..?”

“Sam,” Shaw says, trying to politely take her hand back from Karen’s surprisingly strong grip.

“I’m Karen,” she continues gripping Shaw’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam!”

Shaw decides to give up pretenses and pulls her hand back. “So,” she says as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “How did you find class?”

Thankfully, Root appears before Shaw is forced to make further small talk.

“Hey Sam,” Root greets, engulfing Shaw in a tight hug. She discreetly pinches Shaw’s ass. Shaw in turn digs her nails into Root’s arm.

“You two know each other?” Karen asks, her eyes flitting between them.

“Oh yea, Sam is John’s sister.”

“Oh?” Karen nods and takes a closer look at Shaw. “John’s...sister. So sister-in-laws then? It’s great to see in-laws getting along so well!” She opens and closes her mouth, finding the right words. “So uhh...you’re a Rooney too? Or something else?”

“Rooney,” Shaw says. She keeps her pleasant smile plastered on, waiting for Karen to pry into their sibling relationship even more.

“Half-siblings?”

Shaw lets out a chuckle. “Adopted,” she clarifies.

“Right! Yes, you two don’t look alike, of course that’s it,” Karen says with a boisterous laugh.

“Physical appearances are about the only thing different between them,” Root quips fondly.

“So do you live around here too, Sam?” Karen questions.

“Just moved to the adjacent neighbourhood, actually,” Shaw replies.

“It will be nice to have Sammy around,” Root smiles at Shaw, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “I think she misses the pie I make for her.”

“Yes, that’s very nice! Why don’t you come over for dinner someday, Sam?”

“That’s very welcoming of you, Karen-”

“NOW I’VE HAD..”

Shaw looks around for the source of the low man’s voice before recognising the song.

Karen giggles. “Oh excuse me, that’s mine. It’s my hubby.”

Shaw looks at Root. “That’s even more gross than your ‘sweetie’.”

Root pouts and puts a hand to her chest. “You wound me, honeybun.”

_“Root? Shaw?”_

“John,” Shaw says into the comm. “Control your wife before I shoot her.”

_“Well Shaw, my wife is an independent woman and I have no desire to control her.”_

“Thanks John,” Root says. “Now what’s up?”

_“Perhaps you should have listened to the conversation the Wyatt’s were having.”_

“Sorry Harry,” Root says, not sounding it at the slightest. “Care to give us the cliffsnotes?”

_“It seems that they’ve...found their new targets.”_

“So they are killers?” Shaw asks, smiling.

_“We don’t know that yet Ms. Shaw.”_

“What’d they say? Who are the targets?”

_“The three of you.”_

Shaw furrows her eyebrows. “Say that again.”

_“The Wyatt’s have set their eyes on the Rooney’s, all three of them, tonight.”_

* * *

 

“Any change?” Root asks, handing Shaw a few magazines and a box of ammo.

Shaw presses the bullets in one by one, her eyes never leaving the screen. “No. Karen is still making dinner. Looks like it’s a chicken pot pie...handmade crust, rotisserie chicken…” she wipes the drool from her mouth.

Reese and Root share a look, they both shrug and go on their merry way. Root drops an energy bar onto Shaw’s lap and Reese peers through the scope of his rifle to keep a physical eye on the Wyatt’s.

With a disappointed sigh, Shaw rips into the energy bar and chews noisily. “Why can’t you cook like that?”

“Because I don’t have four hours to spare to play housewife.”

“You’re playing housewife now…”

“I can think of more fun ways to play housewife, sugar plum.”

“Root. Stop it with the food nicknames.”

“But you didn’t like ‘sweetie’.”

Reese tries his best to ignore them as he checks on the rest of the guns, counting them under his breath.

_“Is all that firepower necessary Mr. Reese?”_

“They’ve managed to kill 17 people without the Machine knowing Finch.”

_“We don’t know that, this could be something else entirely.”_

“Root? The Machine ever tell you about them?”

Root shakes her head. “Maybe they did it undetected and She’s picked up their pattern.”

_“All the more reason to be cautious and not go in unprepared.”_

Shaw tucks a knife into her ankle holster and another gun on the other side. “Does it look like we’re not prepared?”

“They’re getting ready to leave,” Reese says, looking through the binoculars. “No weapons on them, far as I can tell, did you see them carry anything on the feeds?”

“No, they were putting the pie in the box,” Shaw says.

“A pie...in the box, they’re coming over with pie.”

Root shakes her head, crossing over the hallway to the living room. They all take a formation, waiting for the Wyatt’s. “Death by pie?”

“Do not make an innuendo,” Shaw grumbles. “They already ruined chicken pot pie.”

“If you wanted pie -”

“What did I just say?”

“I was going to say we could swing by a diner after this.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Really? What’d you -”

Reese shushes them. “Think you two can concentrate on our serial killers first?”

“I can multi-task,” Root says with a wink.

The doorbell rings, Shaw tucks one gun into her pants and waits for Reese to give her the go ahead. She puts the pistol at the door and angles away from a direct hit.

Shaw is about to pull the door open when Finch’s voice sounds out over the comms.

_“Ms Shaw wait! Maybe we should be less hasty? After all, we still aren’t sure that they’re killers and they don’t have any weapons with them.”_

Shaw pauses and looks at Reese.

_“Maybe you three should put away your weapons and we’ll wait and see how things play out.”_

Reese nods. They quickly put away their guns and Shaw opens the door.

“Karen?” she questions, with a polite smile on her face.

“Sam! Hi! This is my husband, Dave,” she smiles brightly.

Dave smiles and stretches his hand out. “Hi Sam. Nice to meet you. Karen made chicken pot pie, and we thought Caroline and John would like to have some. And you too, of course. Are they home as well?” he peers around Shaw, trying to take a look inside the house.

Shaw ignores his hand but steps back and opens the door wider. “Of course, come in. Caroline, John, look who’s here,” she calls out behind her.

Root walks in from inside the house, a bright smile appearing on her face as she pretends that she has just noticed the couple. “Karen! Dave! Come in! John is just in his office. He’ll come out soon.” She points to the box. “And what is that?”

“Chicken pot pie!” Karen says, handing it over to Root. “You said earlier Sam missed your pie, I wasn’t sure if it was sweet or savory and well, chicken pot pie is my speciality.”

“Oh,” Root coos. “That’s so thoughtful, isn’t she Sammy?”

Shaw pastes on a smile. “Very.”

Root hands the pie over to Shaw, who takes it to the kitchen.

“Would you like anything to drink? Wine? Beer? Water?”

Meanwhile, Shaw is very carefully checking the pie. Her nose twitches at the wonderful aroma. She shakes her head. “Why…” she mumbles.

_“Ms Shaw, please do not eat the pie.”_

“I know that Finch.”

_“Just offering a helpful reminder, that it could very well be poisoned.”_

“Thought you didn’t think they were serial killers.”

_“That does not mean we should not be treading with caution.”_

“No bombs, nothing that can release anything, as far as I can tell. Won’t be able to know if it’s poisoned until a lab test. Or...a taste test.”

_“Ms. Shaw, do not eat the pie!_

“Not me, give me some credit.”

_“Oh dear, please do not force feed Ms. Groves or Mr. Reese.”_

Shaw rolls her eyes so hard she nearly pulls her rectus eye muscles. She doesn’t dignify Finch with a response, instead plating the pie and thoroughly ignoring the delicious scent wafting into her nose.

_“Ms Groves, I’m getting worried about Ms Shaw’s silence.”_

“It’s okay Finch, I’ve got it,” Reese says as he walks out from inside the house after putting away all the guns in strategically convenient locations around and inside the entire building. He sniffs at the pie and sighs. “Think we can order pizza?”

“You really want pizza after smelling that?”

“...Well I guess if we have to go one way or another, might as well have a full stomach.”

They hear a thud on the commline.

“Finch? You alright there?”

_“Yes, I think I need a certain amount of brain damage just to understand the both of you. Now please, go to Ms. Groves and do not eat the possibly poisoned pie.”_

Balancing the plates on their hands, Reese and Shaw head back into the dining room.

“I thought you ate that all on your own Sam,” Root says. Reese puts the plate in front of Root and sits down next to her. She gives him a peck on the cheek as thanks. “Did Sam insist on cutting it?”

“You know she did,” Reese answer. He sips at his wine and they all wait for the Wyatt’s next move. They are in fact, staring at Reese and Root.

Root snuggles in closer to him at the scrutiny. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Shaw grip the knife tighter in her hand, the one closest to being thrown at Reese’s head. Root slides her foot up Shaw’s leg and grins at the resounding thud under the table. All eyes go to Shaw.

“Got a cramp,” Shaw says with a grimace.

“Well,” Karen says, pointing to the pie in front of Shaw. “Have a taste!”

Shaw doesn’t have much of a choice, apart from shooting Karen and Dave right on the spot, but Finch would give her such a long lecture on bedside manner. It’s best to be poisoned. The fork pierces through the crust, taking as little as possible. She puts it in her mouth and her face lights up. “Damn this is good,” Shaw says. “You know, even if this were poisoned, I’d still eat it.”

_“Ms. Shaw? Did she...oh dear, did she eat it first? Is she alright? Should I call an ambulance? I’ve contacted Detective Fusco, he should be there shortly. Ms. Groves? Mr. Reese? Sameen, can you hear me? Anyone? ”_

“Oh I am so glad,” Karen says with a clap of her hands. She in turn digs into the pie and so does Dave.

“Honey,” Reese says. Root turns to him. ”I think this would go very well with that bottle of red we have in the cupboard. I’ll go and get it. Excuse me,” he says to the table. In the safety of the kitchen, Reese addresses Finch. “We’re fine, the Wyatt’s are eating the pie too.”

_“Oh thank God.”_

“Now that we know they’re probably not trying to kill us, maybe we can work on another angle? Any other leads?” Reese digs through the fridge, finding a bottle of red behind Shaw’s shotgun.

_“I did get a hit on the facial recognition, I’d thought that one of us could interview them but...well there was the more pressing matter of the Wyatt’s plan concerning the three of you.”_

“Maybe they just wanted to have dinner with us.” Reese sticks a knife into the cork of the bottle and pops it open without much fuss.

_“That could be a possibility, but the way they were speaking…”_

“I’ll see what we can dig up.”

_“Be careful Mr. Reese.”_

He takes the red back to the dining room with a smile. “Here we are,” he says, pouring everyone a fresh glass. He looks around, seeing everyone’s empty plate, even his.

Root shoots him an apologetic smile. “Sam was hungry. You forgot your sister’s rule about leaving food on the table?”

“I’ll order you pizza, John,” Shaw smiles sweetly at him as her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“It’s okay,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “Caroline has some leftover chocolate champagne cake. With strawberries.”

“That sounds like a cake served at a wedding,” Dave points out, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

“It was,” Root says with a lovestruck smile. “I just wanted to make something to remember that day.”

“Ugh,” Shaw grunts. “Get a room.”

“Uhhhm…” Karen mutters. She takes another gulp of wine, swallowing it down quickly. “There was….well there’s something Dave and I would like to discuss with you.”

“Is everything okay Karen?” Root asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion at Karen’s uncharacteristic abashment. “You can tell us.”

“It’s okay Kare-bear,” Dave says, rubbing her shoulders.

“We’d like you to join us at the Canary Bird Club,” Karen says. She stares at them with an expectant expression.

“That’s nice,” Reese says, folding his hands under his chin. “I like birds.”

Shaw snorts and covers it up with a cough. “Yea, he likes finches.”

“And cranes,” Root adds.

“Wrens.”

“Crows.”

“And partridges.”

_“Ms. Shaw, Ms. Groves, that’s enough, please.”_

“So you wanted to invite us to birdwatch?” Reese asks.

Karen looks thoughtful and shakes her head. “That’s not quite it…”

Dave pats her hand and looks towards Root and Reese. “Karen mentioned that you two have a spontaneous life, keeping the marriage adventurous?”

“I suppose,” Root says. “Always good to have some excitement, isn’t that right baby?”

“Definitely,” Reese says, lips quirking into a semblance of a smile.

“Alright, married people,” Shaw says, pointing to them. “Talking about married things,” she starts to rise from her chair. “While I single person will take care of that chocolate champagne cake.”

“Actually,” Dave begins. “We’d like to talk to you about it too Sam.”

Midway through standing, Shaw stops, her hand poised above the table and her thighs just off the seat.

“Well, Dave and I share a unique lifestyle and...well we thought that you three might be interested in being involved in it.”

“Here it is,” Shaw mumbles. Her hand creeps to the back of her pants, fingers tracing the metal of her gun.

Dave takes a deep breath.

Shaw’s hands tighten around her gun.

Reese tenses.

Root tilts her head slightly, waiting.

Karen blurts out, “We’re swingers.”

The entire room is sucked into silence.

_“I’m sorry did they just say swingers? As in… oh… that… oh…the Canary Bird Club...is...oh.”_

Reese blinks and lifts the side of his cheek in a half-smile. “I am a great swing dancer.”

The Wyatt’s deflate. Root pats Reese’s hand. “Honey, they don’t mean that type of swinging.”

“I’m so glad you trust us enough to tell us such an important part of your life,” Root says with a placating smile.

“That’s not … well yes we do trust you to not share this with the entire neighborhood,” Dave says. “But we...well, if you’re all amenable to the idea…”

Shaw has given up on trying to school her expression. Her mouth is hanging open slightly and her eyebrows are raised as she stares unblinkingly at Karen. She shakes out of it. “Swingers?”

_“There’s movement around their house, I see two intruders. They’re looking for the Wyatt’s, you have to keep them with you. Detective Fusco is 5 minutes away. We need to keep them safe for another 5 minutes.”_

“And you want us, to…” Reese points to himself and Root.

“Or do you mean...switching partners…?” Root asks.

“Why am I here for this?” Shaw asks. “I should...go.” She quirks an eyebrow at Root and Reese, she’d like in on some real action across the street, not this...suburban sex nightmare.

“No, Sam, wait,” Karen begins. “We’d like you to join in too…”

Shaw’s mouth hangs open. “Join in...as in...all of us?”

Karen and Dave nod.

Shaw holds up a hand. “You know that John is my brother right?”

“Adopted,” Dave says.

“I have a promise ring,” Shaw says with a slight grin.

“You don’t have a ring on,” Root points out. Everyone looks to her naked ring finger.

“It’s at the jeweler’s, getting polished.”

_“Just a few more minutes needed. Detective Fusco is in the house, keep stalling.”_

“Who’s this person you have the promise ring for Sam?”

“Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ of course.”

Root narrows her eyes. “I didn’t know you were religious.” She turns to Reese. “Are you that religious? Did you have a promise ring too?”

“I...uh...did....not?”

_“They’ve been apprehended.”_

“Oh thank god,” Reese sighs.

Karen and Dave look to him in confusion and he just smiles.

“Thank god Sam has a promise ring, I’d hate to go big brother on who she’s sleeping with. Right Caroline?” he nudges her arm.

“I don’t need protecting,” Shaw protests, her biceps flexing dangerously as she grasps the table with her hands.

Loud shouts outside the street interrupt their otherwise lovely conversation. Root, Reese and Shaw immediately go on the defensive, checking the windows. Karen and Dave linger in the back and tiptoe over their shoulders to get a better look out the street.

“Kare-Bear isn’t that Bobby?” Dave asks, pointing to a red-haired man in handcuffs being led out by Fusco.

“It is!” Karen runs out the front door, Dave following her.

“Crap,” Shaw hisses. They all run after the couple.

“Bobby?” Karen asks, watching as he gets into the back of the police car. “What’s going on?” she turns to Fusco.

He flashes them his badge. “Detective Fusco. You the owners of the house?”

“Yes we are,” Dave answers, holding onto Karen’s shoulders. “What happened?”

“Caught him trespassing trying to plant a homemade bomb in your bedroom.”

Karen holds a hand to her chest. “Bobby, why would you  -”

“You fucked my girlfriend!”

“Who’s your girlfriend?”

“TRICIA.”

“Ohhh,” Dave and Karen both say. “Tricia with the tongue piercing.”

Bobby screams in the car and Fusco slams the door shut. He shakes his head.

“Next time you wanna … have some extracurriculars in your married life, how about running some background checks first huh?” Fusco eyes the trio in the background and points at them. “Like those three, never know if they’re all just a bunch of whacked up nutjob killers.”

Karen and Dave turn expectantly to Shaw, Root, and Reese.

Shaw nods sagely. “He’s right. You never know.”

 

 


End file.
